I am a lover of garden, not
a student of them. Until recently. I've never known a coleus a
columbine. At least, I do not
know their names.
But like most innocent confident I knew what I liked and what I did not like. And one thing I really did not like it too much color.
Garden My grandmother had too many colors. Everyone knew that my grandmother loved plants. Thus, every Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Easter or birthday of his house was full of flower pots. My grandmother had each of these plants in the ground with some coffee and a wish of good luck with the Connecticut winter. By sheer force of numbers, many of them did.
From a social point of view, the garden of my grandmother was a raving success. People detect a begonia invaded and exclaim, "Oh, Annie, look at the size of that! Is not the plant that gave the last Passover "And of course, my grandmother always said," Yes. "
From an aesthetic point of view, however, the garden of my grandmother was a disaster. I walk around thinking, "Oh, it's very yellow. And a rose is beautiful. And there is a beautiful orange. But together, they give me a headache. "
Recently, I had a headache like. I was involved in the most insidious curse: the curse of many interesting things to do. Write the letter on the table varnished garage sale, assembling family photos that my aunt gave me, learn new chess program on the computer, launch the fascinating novel about the Civil War my friend lent me , finish the last butterfly in my embroidery sampler.
Everything was wonderful. But it was too. My mind is a whirlwind project to another. So instead of writing, varnishing, installing, learning, reading, early or late, I'd collapse in a chair on the terrace and look to the space.
At that time, a local landscaper, noted was kind enough to help beautify the small strip of land between the pool and the neighbor's fence. He, of course, is the expert in the gardens. But the shadow of the court of my grandmother haunted me. I dare not say that I do not want too many colors.
The dream of all plantsmen, "instant garden" can be a reality in Florida. In a short time, soft shades of green, soothing cream advice, peaches and red hot greeted me when I came across the courtyard. As I watched the beautiful scene, I realized that my garden has changed over and over again with every angle of the sun or cloud cover, every gust of wind or rain. Flowers, leaves, moved in an ever changing kaleidoscope, rich, interesting, never boring and never overwhelming branches. And all with only three colors. Gradually, the message came to me: my indoor garden, too, is at its best with only a few colors.
I put the table garage sale where I put the photos in a safe place, I took the chess program on my computer: any insured safely in the nursery of fun things to do in the future. With renewed energy, calm and pleasure, I cultivated my other projects. And flowered beautifully.
Jane Allen Petrick, Ph.D., is an organizational psychologist and author of "Making the Connection: Get a job of work" and "Beyond Time Management: Organizing the Organization."Is currently vice president of international decision-making, and assistant professor at the Graduate School of Business at the University Capella.Jane has helped organizations around the world to connect with the joy of healthy workplace. Contact Dr. Jane with labor issues on your site http://www.wisdomforwork.com. Because the work is a four letter word. But that's life. And if love.
But like most innocent confident I knew what I liked and what I did not like. And one thing I really did not like it too much color.
Garden My grandmother had too many colors. Everyone knew that my grandmother loved plants. Thus, every Valentine's Day, Mother's Day, Easter or birthday of his house was full of flower pots. My grandmother had each of these plants in the ground with some coffee and a wish of good luck with the Connecticut winter. By sheer force of numbers, many of them did.
From a social point of view, the garden of my grandmother was a raving success. People detect a begonia invaded and exclaim, "Oh, Annie, look at the size of that! Is not the plant that gave the last Passover "And of course, my grandmother always said," Yes. "
From an aesthetic point of view, however, the garden of my grandmother was a disaster. I walk around thinking, "Oh, it's very yellow. And a rose is beautiful. And there is a beautiful orange. But together, they give me a headache. "
Recently, I had a headache like. I was involved in the most insidious curse: the curse of many interesting things to do. Write the letter on the table varnished garage sale, assembling family photos that my aunt gave me, learn new chess program on the computer, launch the fascinating novel about the Civil War my friend lent me , finish the last butterfly in my embroidery sampler.
Everything was wonderful. But it was too. My mind is a whirlwind project to another. So instead of writing, varnishing, installing, learning, reading, early or late, I'd collapse in a chair on the terrace and look to the space.
At that time, a local landscaper, noted was kind enough to help beautify the small strip of land between the pool and the neighbor's fence. He, of course, is the expert in the gardens. But the shadow of the court of my grandmother haunted me. I dare not say that I do not want too many colors.
The dream of all plantsmen, "instant garden" can be a reality in Florida. In a short time, soft shades of green, soothing cream advice, peaches and red hot greeted me when I came across the courtyard. As I watched the beautiful scene, I realized that my garden has changed over and over again with every angle of the sun or cloud cover, every gust of wind or rain. Flowers, leaves, moved in an ever changing kaleidoscope, rich, interesting, never boring and never overwhelming branches. And all with only three colors. Gradually, the message came to me: my indoor garden, too, is at its best with only a few colors.
I put the table garage sale where I put the photos in a safe place, I took the chess program on my computer: any insured safely in the nursery of fun things to do in the future. With renewed energy, calm and pleasure, I cultivated my other projects. And flowered beautifully.
Jane Allen Petrick, Ph.D., is an organizational psychologist and author of "Making the Connection: Get a job of work" and "Beyond Time Management: Organizing the Organization."Is currently vice president of international decision-making, and assistant professor at the Graduate School of Business at the University Capella.Jane has helped organizations around the world to connect with the joy of healthy workplace. Contact Dr. Jane with labor issues on your site http://www.wisdomforwork.com. Because the work is a four letter word. But that's life. And if love.
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